Sierra Granite

As a child I crawled over it, felt its warmth as I lay on it, its sting as I fell on it. As a teen I hiked over it, strapped on my backpack and bouldered over uncharted passes till my feet were blistered. In college I studied its geologic origins as magma deep in the earth to glacial erratics, stranded during some past ice age. As an adult I learned to climb it, searching for nooks and crannies, for foot and hand holds –heart pounding with adrenaline when I looked down. Then one year I tossed my mother’s ashes from the top of Elizabeth pass, a 12,000 foot granite escarpment.

One day, I wanted to paint it. I realized all my life I had been reveling in the varied colors, shapes, sizes and textures of granite. In these compositions I pare down the landscape to capture just the essence and power of the granite. I look for the tension between two boulders, the strength of the sun against the cool of the shadow, the serenity of massive slabs dipping into quiet lakes. I use many layers of paint, starting with underlayers of bright colors, building up surfaces of paint to create granular masses.

My final painting may be literal or abstract, but it will capture the spirit of granite; hardened by centuries, warmed by sun, cooled by water, softened by lichen—geometric shapes forged by geologic forces over the millenniums.